I need an extraordinarily large amount of time to myself. Being an introvert means that I need time away from people to recharge my batteries, but my batteries can explode. They need to stop charging after a while.
This is my lonely summer. This is the summer where I keep my head down, watch Netflix and try to be creative. This is the summer where my friends are all gone and graduated and I'm... still here.
There is so much shame wrapped up in loneliness. After all, there has to be a reason why people don't want to hang out with you. Maybe, this is just a time where things aren't working out the way you thought they would and you're just stuck in limbo. Maybe this is the universe punishing you for being so independent. Maybe this is the universe telling you that you need to go work out.
As I'm sitting here reflecting on my loneliness, I think about all the good company I've had. I sit in the glow of my past conversations and try to soak in that feeling of company while I can. Any minute now, Wilson is going to start showing up.
As much as is doesn't feel this way, it's okay to be lonely. It's okay to want people around and it's okay to miss your friends. It's even okay to daydream about the times you did have friends to keep you company.
Daydreams are fleeting, but they'll always come back and I won't be alone forever. But part of feeling lonely is admitting to yourself that you feel this way. I've found that if you don't, you just keep digging a deeper ditch of despair.
My biggest fear is that I'm going to end up living an ordinary life. A life full of laundry and dishes and a job I don't like. Right now, I'm living an ordinary life, but what I never thought about was that it could just be a stepping stone to my version of extraordinary. Being alone for a while could be a precursor to something big. Even if it isn't, I'm going to pretend like it is so as to make it through my day.